


Absinthe

by MommaUrsa, saccarines (orphan_account)



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Blackmail, Crossdressing, M/M, Multi, Prohibition, Sharing, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-18
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 08:26:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MommaUrsa/pseuds/MommaUrsa, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/saccarines
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dick Grayson - leader of the Night Wings - sees Judge Wayne's son buying alcohol, he takes advantage of the situation to its full extent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Chapter Summary:** Prohibition didn’t bother Dick on a personal level, just a professional one.

The place was dimly lit, a tense hush settled over the air. People from all walks of life populate the establishment, dressed to impress and holding conversations in quiet tones. Smoke curled towards the ceiling from cigarettes and cigars, dissipated from the slowly churning fans above. A flashily-dressed woman stood center stage, swaying to the music while she sang into the microphone.

 

Dick surveyed all of this from his private booth tucked in the back of the room. His cocktail was mostly untouched before him, unlike the rest of the patron’s drinks. He could name most of the faces in the bar – the important ones anyway. Ones that he could collect favors from should he ever need to.

 

Dr. Thomas Elliot was hovering at the bar, chatting up a man Dick didn’t recognize. From his over-eager posture and the still-shining light in his eyes, Dick would guess he’s Elliot’s newest intern. Poor lad.

 

Harvey Dent – resident DA - was at a table full of coworkers with a round of half-empty glasses between them. From the frequent, nervous looks they shot towards the doors, Dick could tell they were new to the experience. Dent laughed at something, moving his head just enough catch Dick observing, and after a moment, Dent lifted his glass to him. Dick inclined his head and moves on.

 

Selina Kyle sat several tables away, a large margarita before each patron at her table. Dick recognized the ginger at her left as Pamela Isley, a chemist if memory served. The blonde at her right was Harleen Quinzel, a psychiatrist that more often than not received court-appointed patients. She’d psychoanalyzed a number of Dick’s men on court orders, and due to her patronage at Haley’s, they walked free a good half of the time.

 

Seeing Harleen and Pamela wasn’t a surprise. They were at Haley’s at least once a week. Selina, however, _was_ a surprise. Ever since she’d married Judge Wayne…six? seven months ago? Dick hadn’t seen her around her typical haunts. It was unfortunate. Dick liked Selina quite a bit. He’d never pictured her ending up a married woman. To be completely honest, he’d expected her to end up in some kind of _ménage à trois_ with Harleen and Pamela.

 

He counted a handful of off-duty police officers at the bar, a librarian from the local high school sitting left-stage, and the Mayor himself was walking in the door.

 

Dick smiled. He’d admit to basking in the knowledge that he held Gotham’s most powerful hostage by a simple drink. A drink he didn’t even care for, really. Prohibition didn’t bother Dick on a personal level, just a professional one.

 

Before prohibition, the Night Wings held less than half of Gotham’s underground alcohol trade. Absinthe and a few others were the only drinks illegal in the area. Now, with the most basic of alcohol banned, they were the most notorious for bootlegging. They were the best at it, too. They covered their tracks, and any link Dick had to them was buried under miles and miles of political corruption that not even Judge Wayne could dig through.

 

Being the best had its problems, though. Their territorial disputes with the Red Hoods had jumped from petty to chaotic. Dick spent a lot more money than he’d like paying for the best smugglers he could find. _He didn’t even care for alcohol_. He liked the light, fruity drinks and one or two hard drinks, but Dick didn’t think his world would end without it.

 

Prohibition had done nothing but make it harder to slip past Judge Wayne, put a dent in his pocket, and drop Gotham’s most notable and untrustworthy into his hands.

 

“Boss?”

 

Dick tilted his head back, focusing his attention on his security detail, “Mm?”

 

“We’ve got some underage activity at the bar.”

 

Dick hummed, turning his head. He didn’t mind serving minors, so long as they weren’t too young or too incriminating. It was easy to spot the perpetrator. He was shorter than most of the people at the bar, and looked to be haggling with the bartender. He was petite and dark-skinned. He was…

 

“Well _that’s_ interesting.”

 

Seeing Judge Wayne’s wife wasn’t that surprising; Dick knew her before she’d married the man. Seeing Judge Wayne’s underage _son_ , however, _was_ surprising.

 

Dick had done his research on the Wayne family (know thine enemy and all that). He knew Bruce Wayne’s daughter and son(s) are all…somewhat scandalous. He’d adopted Cassandra Cain shortly after putting her father away for life. He’d adopted Timothy Drake shortly after the boy’s parents had been killed by a criminal who’d broken out of prison before Wayne could give him a proper trial.

 

Damian Wayne was the kicker, though. Bruce Wayne’s bastard son. It was still largely a mystery who his mother was. Bruce Wayne had never been married – before Selina, that is – and it was quite obvious that the youngest son had some foreign blood in him. He was the blemish on Judge Wayne’s moral code. The walking, talking proof that Wayne didn’t always follow the rules.

 

Dick waved his fingers at the man behind him, “Bring him over here.”

 

“You sure, boss? That’s the judge’s kid.”

 

“I know who he is,” Dick leaned back, “Bring him over here.”

 

-

 

The teenager was pushed into the booth roughly, wearing a glower so dark it could scare a few of Dick’s associates. He folded his arms, turning his angry look on Dick as the curtains were pulled around the booth to keep away prying eyes.

 

“ _What_?”

 

Dick lifted an eyebrow. He was slightly surprised the kid doesn’t have an accent, but he _had_ been living in Gotham for a while now. “What?”

 

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong-”

 

Dick laughed, “This whole place is _wrong_ , little Wayne. That excuse doesn’t cut it here. Still. Not why I called you over.”

 

Damian frowned, glower lightening. “Your _point_?”

 

“First, tone down the hostility. We just met, and it’s bad manners to glare at me like I’ve single-handedly ruined your night.”

 

When Damian didn’t acquiesce, Dick sighed and continued. “Are you here for the good judge?”

 

“- _tt_ -” Damian narrowed his eyes, “My father doesn’t _drink_ , if that’s what you’re implying. He obeys the law explicitly.”

 

“Then you’re here for _you_ ,” Dick tapped his fingers on the table, “Did Selina bring you? Trying to win over the sons?”

 

“I can _walk_ ,” Damian spat.

 

“It’s a long walk from Wayne Manor, unless you’re spending your time in some _other_ shady digs around here.” Dick pusheed his untouched drink across the table, reclining as much as the booth allowed.

 

Damian stared at the drink as if he’d never been more baffled.

 

“Since I’ve never seen you here before, and I’ve never gotten a report that you’ve been in any of my… _bars_ , I’m going to assume this is the first time you’ve tried this little rebellion of yours?”

 

Damian didn’t answer, fingers tracing the rim of the glass.

 

“Well, I do require something from my patrons. A payment, of sorts.” Dick smiled, “A favor, actually. I’m sure you’ve seen the kind of profile I cater to, here.” He managed to keep his smile from growing when the teen took a testing sip of the cocktail.

 

Damian finally replied in near-monotone, “Politicians. Doctors. High society.”

 

“Right. And the mob – my gang – is considered low society. When we run into trouble with the law, I require a bit of… _help_ from people in high places.”

 

“My father isn’t going to help _you_ -”

 

“Not your _father_ ,” Dick mimicked his tone. “ _You_ , Damian. You’re the one sneaking in here to get tipsy. See, _you’re_ breaking quite a few laws being here. You’re a minor, you’re _drinking_.” Damian put down the glass. “I doubt you want your dad to find out about this.”

 

“Telling him means incriminating yourself.”

 

“I’ve been to court dozens of times, Damian. Do I look like I’m in jail?’

 

The boy frowned.

 

“So, here’s what’s going to happen. _You’re_ going to do anything and everything you can to keep Bruce Wayne off my back and away from my dives. I don’t really care _how_ you do it, as long as it gets done.”

 

Damian opened his mouth.

 

“And in _return_ ,” Dick eyed him, “He doesn’t find out what his son is spending his money on. See? Not that bad.”

 

Damian looked ready to glower again, “You’re _blackmailing_ me?”

 

“ _You’re_ drinking my cocktail,” Dick shrugged in response. “I’m a mob boss, Damian. What did you _expect_ when you came here tonight? To not get caught?”

 

 _Now_ Damian glowered again.

 

“Do we have a deal?”

 

“- _tt_ \- Fine.” Damian slid to the end of the booth, “But I’m keeping your drink.”


	2. Chapter 2

               The scent of cigarettes was stronger on this man than it was in any club Dick owned. The smoky haze tinted the scent of leather and gun powder. It mixed with the scent of cologne that Dick had bought the man for occasions such as this, to mask the stench of stale smoke when Jason had given up the tobacco for a few days. The scent barely masked the smell – and Jason always complained about wearing the cologne if it did nothing but mix with the scent, but he always spritzed himself – and instead mixed with it.

               They had been doing this for years, but it didn’t feel that way. Every touch still felt electrifying and the sex…well, the sex was never boring. There was never a dull night between the two, even when their touches became tender and almost _sweet_. However, their positions in their gangs, their stances on murder, and their gang’s respective classes made it damn near impossible to allow the sweet, tender touches become more than just physical. The leader of the Night Wings couldn’t be seen with the leader of the Red Hoods, not when Jason’s gang was seen as being full of street rats. The Night Wings were respected by the upper class. That respect was what Dick’s business was built upon. He had people that depended on his success, and he couldn’t let personal feelings get in the way of that.

               Dick’s expression was soft as he watched the younger man in front of him. He took a deep breath, allowing the faint hint of alcohol to fill his nostrils. The scent reminded him of the drink from the previous night. Of the Judge’s son who’d taken it. Dick’s nose wrinkled at the memory. He tried to shove it out of his mind, to focus on Jason as he shoved the man down onto the sofa they were standing in front of. This was his night with Jason. He was not about to ruin it with thoughts of other men. Of other  _boys_.

               Dick slowly climbed onto the man, straddling Jason’s lap as he reached into the leather coat’s pocket for the metal cigarette case. The metal case was yet another gift from Dick over the course of their relationship. He had purchased it custom made, with a picture of a girl posing in a bikini with Jason’s initials tattooed onto her left hip in the same red that had been used to color her curls. The younger man had pitched a fit, complaining that he didn’t need somewhere nice to put his cigarettes when he could just shake them out of the pack, but he had given up on that fight once he figured out what exactly Dick would do if the cigarettes were in the metal case.

               The metal case opened with a loud pop. Dick slowly pulled a stick out from beneath the small clamp. He pressed the stick to Jason’s lips as the man’s hands settled on his hips.

              “Something wrong, Dickie-bird?” Jason’s brow shot up as the older man pulled the matchbox from the coat’s other pocket. Jason’s eyes tracked the other man’s movements, watching as Dick flicked the match head across the rough surface of the box. The heat of the friction birthed a small flame that Dick then held to the tip of the cigarette until smoke slowly began to drift up toward the ceiling of his nice apartment.

               Dick’s lips curled into a coy smile as he shook the flame out. “Not at all. Why? You worried, Jaybird?” He leaned in to kiss Jason’s jaw, leaving behind a short trail of wet, biting kisses as teeth dragged along the light stubble.

               Jason plucked the cigarette out from between his lips before blowing smoke down at Dick’s face. “You lit my smoke without sayin’ a single thing. Who’s the lucky guy?” Jason smirked as he replaced the smoke, allowing it to dangle loosely from between his lips.

               Dick snorted before tugging Jason’s jacket off. The slide of leather and the rattle and click of zippers and metal buttons filled their silence. Dick finally hummed to himself for a moment, teeth scraping against Jason’s neck before he decided to nibble on the tender flesh. “I caught the Judge’s kid buying drinks, and it wasn’t for the Judge,” he growled against the man’s neck.

               Jason’s lips twitched with interest. “Which judge?” He gripped Dick’s ass with one hand before giving it a hard squeeze. He used his grip to help the older man grind down on his groin. The slow drag forced a low groan out of him.

               Dick made a soft noise before pulling back enough to flash Jason a brilliant grin. “Wayne,” he purred, hand dropping to grip the younger man through his jeans. “His kid’s real cute. Small frame, pretty blue eyes. Probably takes after the mom,” he explained, his voice a low purr as he squeezed Jason.

               Jason groaned, fingers digging into Jason’s ass. The older man chuckled, and then moved his arms up to rest his elbows on Jason’s shoulders. “I was thinking about sharing, if the kid agrees to  _that_ kind of relationship,” he murmured.

               Jason hummed before moving one hand up to remove his cigarette. He blew more smoke into Dick’s face, and then surged forward to claim the older man’s lips in a hard, tooth-clinking kiss. He swiped his tongue along the man’s lips before licking his way into Dick’s mouth, fucking his tongue in and out as he maintained control of the kiss, despite their position.

               Dick made an irritated noise before tangling his fingers in Jason’s hair. He yanked on the short, black waves, forcing Jason’s head back until the younger man was looking up at him. Dick’s eyes narrowed, lips pursing into a tight frown. “Do you want to meet the kid?” He used his free hand to caress the side of Jason’s face.

               Jason slowly licked his bottom lip before swallowing. “Sure,” he growled the response.

               Dick chuckled, and then gave Jason’s cheek a light tap. “Tonight’s  _my_  night on top. You better honor that if you want me to share.”

               Jason rolled his eyes, only to have Dick snatch the cigarette from his fingers. The older man put it out on the ashtray beside them. “I think I want you on your hands and knees, Jaybird. You seem to be intent on defying me tonight.”


End file.
